Empathy
by Muria
Summary: Clairvoyance and empathy should never mix, or the worst of time amplifies the emotions of the present... How will Xavier deal with this mutant when he sees the past and future of everyone he encounters, without any sense of control or discretion?
1. Introduction

This is an edit. There's an added scene and much improved description. If you enjoy the changes, thank Sandshrew777. He's betareading now. :)

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Lost in the bustle of city-life, an apartment building lay half-abandoned, empty but for a handful of temporary travelers, there for whatever reason. Among them, a woman leaned awkwardly over a stack of bills, wearily penciling in possibilities for her meager acting salary. Beside her apartment, a young couple cradled a child between them, faces soft with adoration for their baby. In contrast, a gang leader threatened one of his clumsier men just across the hall. Such were their lives, in various states of disrepair and filled different dreams of healing and thriving. All so different.

One apartment, a rather small, tattered one with paint chipped walls, a creaking floor, an unnaturally creaky ceiling despite the absence of anyone in the overhead apartment, and a heavy scent of mold, housed just one traveler: a youth called Zane.

Even alone in his apartment, he seemed smaller than he should be at fourteen; his thin form curled half-asleep in a tangle of blankets, dark hair hanging in his eyes, his entire body shivering faintly as if haunted by a ghost lurking in the shadows of his room.

He lay dazedly on the cot serving as a bed, staring at the TV on the other side of the trashed, aged apartment as the roar of static filled the air. Though the rest of the building's inhabitants weren't quite in hearing range, Zane flinched subconsciously, half-blaming the cold as somewhere in the area, someone complained about excessive noise.

Without bothering to explain his actions, especially to himself, he shifted, glancing through the mess of papers and clothes cluttered around him before snatching the remote buried in the clutter and flicking the TV off.

"Guess the cable died again," he sighed softly. "I need to fix that wiring…" His voice trailed off for a moment, his blue eyes drifting to the window before he continued, "And, oh, the joy of climbing roofs at midnight!"

With a sarcastic laugh, Zane flopped back on his bed. "Well, it's either that or it s just me. I think I'd drive myself crazy." He paused. "Crazier, maybe."

He suppressed a shudder running through his gangly form before shifting his attention elsewhere.

Uneasily, he examined his threadbare, yet messy apartment, eying the abundance of trash littering the floor and clothes draped over furniture to dry after his half-hearted attempts to clean them. The mess almost managed to cover the stains of life left by the apartment's former inhabitants. Zane couldn't see the wear on the floor where someone once paced incessantly. Zane couldn't see the gouges in the walls from a broken bottle. Zane couldn't see the remnants of a mirror on the bathroom floor, though he had to step cautiously to avoid the glass. Throughout the room, debris coated everything that once belonged to someone else.

And, yet, he shivered. Seeking a source, he glanced to the window, blaming a draft through the long cracks running through its center.

"I really need to sleep." He laid back on his cot, tangled in a mess of blankets and clothing, nestled between that cocoon and the wall.

"Maybe things will make more sense tomorrow."

But sleep only brought him such strange things, the likes of which he'd never thought of until they began.

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_Light? Already? Yes, there's a blue jay singing on my windowsill. _

_How sweet. _

_Don't you love how easy it is to kill a bird? Move quiet, act fast, and snap the window down on its pretty little neck. _

_If only it weren't morning. Someone'd notice if I did that in the morning, and then I'd end up in a therapist' s office, talking about my feelings! _

_The horror. _

_I'll catch it tonight. Blue feathers are so 'pretty' to play with. I think I'll give them to the little girl downstairs and let her parents find the body. _

_Tonight, though, not now. Now, I have to get dressed. Unless I want to get fired, I should be on time, primped and pretty as an oh-so-lovely cashier at a half-bankrupt store with a paycheck to match. _

_Joy. _

_Run a brush through my hair, grab a 'lovely' uniform, and- _

_Is that blue? All over my arm? Blue scales on my arms and my hands and my feet and...and...and my body… Why am I blue? _

_The mirror. Walk to the bathroom mirror, look at myself, see whatever' s going on here-_

_More blue. Blue scales on my face. They look just like the ones on the rest of me. How is this happening? _

_Wait-what happened? _

_Blue skin. Red hair...Not brown. And yellow eyes...Not blue. _

_And I could swear I' m staring at a girl in the mirror. _

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With a start, Zane jolted away from the wall he had fallen asleep against, almost falling off his bed to gape, shell-shocked, at his perfectly ordinary, perfectly safe, perfectly normally-in-shambles apartment.

"What was that?" he whispered, half-expecting the girl from his trance to answer. When she didn't, he shook his head.

"Wow, I am going insane."

For a moment longer, he stared at the chipping paint. "Or maybe whoever had this place last kept acid."

Another silence. Nothing happened.

"I need to sleep."

Uneasy, he slipped off to the other side of his bedroom/living room that inhabited his rough flat. A bare light bulb overhead flickered off when Zane aimed a stray shoe at the light switch. With a sigh, he stretched, twisting on his cot until he couldn't see anything but his pillow.

Then, he could sleep.

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Off in Bayville, a computer beeped incessantly, displaying an image of a tattered, dark-haired youth. Lists of data zipped onto the screen, flashing through Zane's name, age, location, and any available public records. Crowning this shifting conglomeration, a string of words remained steady:

New Mutant - Adding Data.


	2. Xavier

I'm so sorry this took so long! I don't know what I've been doing… This is an edited version that I like much better- if you like it better too, thank Sandshrew777. He's a wonderful beta reader.

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Chapter 2

By morning, life continued as usual at the Xavier Institution. The premises, enclosed with a rather lovely gate, lay pristine and manicured. A stillness presided over the surrounding woods, peaceful in the soft light. Yet, within the school's walls, one room echoed with shouts of encouragement, anger, frustration, and hatred towards Wolverine. The Danger Room was in session, but only for a moment longer.

Stalking down the hallway, a thoroughly annoyed Logan sheathed his claws, growling in warning at Roberto and Ray as they passed him and shoved through their classmates in their rush to food. The cacophony of hungry students pushing their way through the mansion echoed off the walls, thundering down to the kitchen.

Off in the kitchen, Charles Xavier glanced up from his coffee to the still serene Storm at the approach of the teenage mob.

"I must check on Cerebro, Ororo," the telepath spoke calmly, calm face concealing his increasing headache, "No one's been in there yet today."

"Did you find anything about Magneto, yet?" She intoned, savoring the quiet while it lasted a scant minute longer. "Or does he still obscure his whereabouts?"

"Unfortunately…" Charles sighed, gesturing vaguely towards the rest of the mansion. "But Jean and Forge have been upgrading Cerebro, so perhaps we'll have luck."

And the teenagers piled into the room, yelling to each other in their jumble to reach the cabinets and refrigerator. Glancing over their heads, Logan glanced at the psychic.

"Go ahead, Charles," Wolverine growled, "I'll keep the runts out of trouble."

Bobby picked that moment to ice Roberto, unintentionally sending him into Ray. The resulting scuffle produced instantaneous yells, electric flares, flames, ice, and a multitude of frightened Jamies. Glancing back at them, Wolverine stalked over to break it up while Ororo rushed to comfort the scattering of Multiples.

'I hate Saturdays' crossed the feral's mind more than he'd care to admit.

Charles was, coincidently, halfway to Cerebro.

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"Ororo, Jean, we have a new mutant." The telepathic call reached both girls, Ororo in the midst of maintaining order in the kitchen and Jean in the middle of her homework.

"Sam, you come, as well." Surprise spilt across the New Mutant's face, while he received more than one dirty look from his teammates.

As Sam remained motionless, Wolverine stepped forward, steering the startled boy to Ororo. Smiling at him, the weather-witch gestured for him to follow her.

Reaching Cerebro, Sam joined the telepaths with an interesting mix of excitement and nerves. Ororo smiled at him, beckoning him towards the screen Jean and Charles occupied themselves with. Charles highlighted sections of a screen full of data, electronically flinging them onto a separate window. Jean spoke beside him, reading the mess of letters, apparently oblivious to the other two's entrance.

Pausing, Sam tilted his head to see the contents of the separate window.

New Mutant: Data Added

Name: Zane Darkwood

Address: 560 Pine Drive

Memphis, TN

Guardians: N/A

Age: 14

Education: N/A

Powers: Telepathic Empathy

Uncertain, Sam glanced at Ororo, began to speak, hesitated, and finally whispered to her, "This is the new mutant? I thought they usually got their powers later."

"Usually, but it can vary." Ororo turned her gaze to Charles, "Do you want us to approach Zane, now, or should we observe him first?"

Nodding, Charles hesitated, "Approach, but be cautious. It's strange that we can't find anymore information on him… I've received strange thoughts from him, as well... I don't believe he's dangerous, but he might startle. Empathy is a mutation I've never encountered. I'm not certain what he can do with it."

Jean looked at him uneasily, "Would it be better if we brought Scott? Everything I'm getting from Zane is… well, strange. I don't know if my powers will work if he does startle… Or if he loses control…"

"That's why there are three of you. It should be alright, and Logan will accompany you to Memphis and stay close while you meet Zane. But, I don't want to upset him, and I believe that Logan or Scott might make him nervous."

That was it. Sam bit his lip, glancing from one adult to the next as they moved to the X-Jet, Logan already in the pilot's chair. For a moment, the Southern boy hesitated.

Touching his shoulder gently, Ororo murmured, "It'll be alright. We'll be right there with you. Charles wouldn't be sending us if he believed that Zane was dangerous. He just needs help controlling his powers, like everyone else here."

Somehow, that wasn't as comforting as she'd intended. Sam fought off shudders the whole way to Tennessee, much to Ororo and Jean's concern.

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Back in Apartment 560, Zane kicked his blanket off, blinking blearily at the sunlight trickling into his room. Remnants of dreams flooded his mind, rippling each time his eyes moved. His lethargy didn't budge until an image settled, one of a huge man with gleaming claws settled, sitting outside his window.

Yelping, the boy jerked to his feet, wide eyes fixed on the glass. Nothing was there but the same view of a not-so-clean street he saw every morning. With a shudder, he collapsed back on his bed, planning on sleeping the rest of the day, exhausted from these bizarre images that haunted him, the visions that he mistook for honest sight.

Forcing his breathing to slow, his eyes closed, body relaxed, mind stilled. Almost asleep, he could not control what he saw…

'_Fired? I hate that man! Late, I know, but what was I supposed to do?' An irate woman, the same from Zane's vision the night before, gestured to her unusual body, 'Go to work covered in blue scales?' She stilled, leaning against the wall by the window, gaze unsure. 'What'll I do now?'_

Zane's eyes jerked open again. His disaster of a flat greeted him, as always, sans blue woman. With a groan, the empath rolled over, half-smothering himself in his pillow.

_She smirked, half-listening to an armored man standing in her doorway. 'Master of Magnetism? Why not?'_

Zane whimpered softly, unable to rid his mind of her or the dark thoughts she had, the dark deeds the man planned she'd do...

'_Assassination? For the good of mutant-kind? More like for his own power, but the blood, the pain, the fear… This'll be fun.' As she walked out the door, a phrase lingered in the back of her mind. 'Never again. I'll never have to come to this dump again.'_

Silent, solitary, Zane dissolved into tears with a murderess's voice ringing his ears. What kind of insanity made him see such things, to imagine crimes he'd never thought of before, to feel someone else's hatred and anger and greed?

'_A new mutant? I'll see to it immediately, Magneto.' Momentarily imageless, the words sounds muffled before a fuzzy scene displayed before Zane's eyes, one of the woman, a little older, but not by much, and the same armored man floating by the metal of his clothes. Behind them, others moved, one massive and calm, one huge and furious, one slim and laughing, one lithe and cunning. _

Biting his tongue till he tasted blood, Zane forced the image from his mind. Eye open, gazing blankly at the ceiling, Zane didn't move for hours, until a knock on his door convinced him to stir.

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Standing outside a dilapidated apartment complex, the X-Men paused to check their coordinates.

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Sam asked softly, "It looks deserted."

Jean nodded, "I sense someone inside. I think it's him."

With that, she strode forward, determined and cheerful with Ororo at her side, Sam at her heels, and Logan lingering by the stairwell.

Stopping at 560, she knocked on the door, lightly searching for thought. Despite the affirmative presence, there was no answer. She knocked again. Faint stirring inside.

"Hang on a minute! I'll be right there!"

Within, Zane swayed on his feet, struggling to think of something besides blood on blue hands or screams before strange men. Another blurry image, one of a white-haired girl flying in the midst of a monsoon greeted him.

Annoyed with himself, trembling, he opened the door to see the X-Men.

"Did you want something?" he mumbled moodily.

Before him, standing uncertainly outside the doorway, Sam glanced to Ororo for advice, but she stood erect, facing the unfriendly boy in the doorway.

"Yes," Jean spoke, "We're from Xavier's Institute. My name's Jean Grey. This is Ororo Monroe and Sam Guthrie." She gestured to the two beside her, Ororo nodding and Sam attempting a smile. "Are you Zane Darkwood?"

"Yeh, but somehow I missed what you want, Miss Grey." Zane sighed.

Still smiling, Jean's thoughts began to drift, 'Not very friendly…'

But, Ororo stepped forward first. "We'd like you to consider joining us. We're mutants, and so are you. Xavier's Institute is a place for young mutants to learn to control their powers."

The ultimatum issued, the trio of X-Men watched to see the empath's response. For a moment, dead silence surrounded them.

'That's not a good sign…' Jean forced her smile to stay put while Sam began to fidget behind her. Thankfully Ororo seemed unfazed.

"Mutants…" Disbelief scrawled itself across Zane's face. Jean rehearsed comforting and convincing words in her head, mostly along the lines of 'he's just confused,' 'it's never easy to accept,' and 'Logan's right outside.'

Zane locked eyes with Jean, suddenly struggling with an uncertainty that didn't feel like his own. "Powers? Like there's a reason I keep seeing things that aren't there, and it's not 'cause I'm crazy?"

At that, Jean relaxed. 'He's not that different- nothing to worry about.'

"We know what you're going through." Jean smiled encouragingly, "It's always hard when your powers emerge. Mine's a mix of telepathy and telekinesis. I kept hearing everyone's thoughts, and it scared me until Professor Xavier told me why it was happening. Then, he taught me to control my powers."

"Do you know what mine's supposed to be, then? 'Drive-user-insane' powers? There isn't anybody here when I see things. I've never seen these people before, and here I am getting their monologues in my head."

Nodding, Ororo spoke, "We believe you're an empath." Zane watched her uncertainly, glancing at Jean and Sam, observing the apparently confident redhead and the uncomfortable boy. But, his gaze jerked back to Storm as she continued. "An empath is someone who feels others' emotions as his own. Since no one's nearby when you feel their emotions could just mean that you have a large range."

"Right…" Zane's eyes narrowed uncomfortably, "What are your powers, then?"

"I can manipulate aspects of the weather." Simple and honest, like all of her answers had been.

"And, I, well," Sam stopped, nervously unsure if he'd messed up or not. Curious, Zane glanced at him. Swallowing, Sam continued, "I kind of fly?"

"Kind of fly?"

Their eyes met. A nod. The boys looked at each other for a moment.

Then, Zane grinned. "Alright. So, we're mutants, and we have different powers. And, there's a range of experience."

'Now he thinks I'm an idiot!' Sam scolded himself, shifting his weight awkwardly to distract himself. 'And in front of Storm and Jean, too… At least Ray and Roberto didn't hear that…'

Ignoring Sam's embarrassment, while Zane looked to Ororo, "And you want me to go with you to Xavier's Institute?"

"Yes." A hint of something entered the boy's cobalt eyes, but Ororo continued, "Charles Xavier began the Institute specifically to help young mutants."

"I don't want to go."

Ororo paused, surprised at his blatant refusal. Jean looked at him. 'How could we…' her thoughts began. Still behind her, Sam shifted awkwardly, looking at his feet.

Then, Ororo spoke, "That's alright. You don't have to. But, the offer stands. I can give you our number if you ever need us for something, whether or not you join us. That's entirely up to you."

Zane accepted a business card, his eyes friendly once more, skimming from person to person. "I may take you up on that. Crowds just aren't my thing. But, all of you seem like nice people. Really nice." He met their eyes, a sincere smile at last touching his face. "I just… Too many people." He shook his head, looking away.

"Well," Jean smiled, "We'll be in contact. The Institute is open to all mutants, and you don't have to worry about anything. The offer will definitely stay open for as long as you like."

"I'll remember that." Zane matched her smile and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder to steer her out the door. For a moment, he paused, eyes open, almost wide, as he stared blankly at the wall. But, it passed with scarcely a shudder and the X-Men found themselves ushered out.

Still smiling, still open, still a little surprised, the trio of X-Men left Zane to himself, meeting an alert Logan just outside the apartment complex.

Muttering to himself, Zane closed his eyes, "Like I could hurt them… Like I would." He shook his head, "Paranoid, Wolverine." Still, vague images of his three guests in danger haunted his mind, coupled with a dangerous man's determination to protect them. "Like I'd even think of most of that… What are they involved in?"


	3. Brotherhood

Zane twitched, jerkily rolling his shoulders in a vain attempt to stop shaking.

This little toad- If Magneto wants him, then I'll grab the coward. As if he won't run if the X-Men so much as glare at him…

Breathing out steadily, Zane stared blankly at the ceiling, reflections of a boy cowed before a monster playing in his blue eyes.

Avalanche, huh… This one could be useful. Now, if I could just get him loyal- or frightened. A punk like this would never admit he's been coerced into obedience. Xavier won't have a leg to stand on, and 'Lance' would never ask for help...

Sliding smoothly to his feet, the empath crossed his small apartment, kicking his refrigerator open in search of food. He scanned the scarce contents inside before choosing the last slice of a week-old pizza.

Laughing to himself, Zane murmured, "Like I'll get any more nightmares from this then from my 'powers'." He winced at another vision, one of a huge man throwing a car.

The Blob? Disgusting. But, cannon fodder has its uses.

Shaking the disturbing thoughts away, Zane glanced out the window, assuring himself once more of its current hunter-less state. No clawed men lurked outside his apartment anymore, not with the X-Men gone. Then, he fingered the card he'd tucked away in his pocket, out of sight, but not out of mind.

"To call or not to call…" Zane collapsed on his bed, searching blindly for the remote that should be somewhere on the floor. "X-Men or…" A new hand knocked against his door, "Go with Ms. Blue Killer. Probably best not to, but-" The knock sounded louder. "I don't think I'd like to tell her no. I probably should call Ms. Munroe…" His visitor gave one last knock in warning, before she kicked the cheap plywood down. Zane stopped looking for the remote.

"Hello, Miss." He spoke in monotone. "There a reason you killed my door?"

Mystique raised an eyebrow, the red raising against blue scales, "Yes, but I assume you can guess it, can't you, Zane?"

Smiling, eyes closed, the boy responded, "True. I've already had X-Men come knocking. Do you want me to come see your group, too?"

"Obviously. The Brotherhood." She moved closer to reach him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "I'm sure you'd be interested."

Opening his eyes, Zane met hers, "Like I have a choice." At that, he stood, externally serene beneath her gaze as he unearthed a worn bag from beneath his bed. "How long will this trip be?"

Mystique smirked, "You know so much already, little empath. Do you expect me to believe you don't know?"

"I can hope." With that, the youth hopped over the flimsy furniture, escaping the woman's grip to force a pile of clothes into his bag. Calm as ever, he lifted his gaze around the room, moving at what appeared random until he had gathered whatever he deemed important enough to take with him.

A moment passed. Zane cocked his head, shifting to face Mystique, "We going to eat anytime soon, or should I get something now?"

"We're going to Bayville." She dead toned. "In New York."

"Food now!" Unfazed, Zane kicked his refrigerator open once more, capturing a slightly fuzzy orange and a slice of cheese. "Do you want anything, or is the stomach of a teenage boy really made of steel?"

Mystique did not dignify him with an answer, instead stalking out the door, leaving him to follow. Quietly, he did, still forcing a smile against his lips. As he passed the door, he glanced back at the apartment he'd been squatting in for the past year, unnoticed by the management currently located somewhere in Florida or the neighbors who had yet to realize lost electricity from a clumsy hotwiring.

"Bye, home."

The door closed.

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Hours later, Zane sleepwalked off a plane, following a now-disguised Mystique through the airport. After they reached a taxi, he honestly lost a good hour before Mystique shook him awake.

For a second, he blinked at her. With a scoff, she turned, "We're here. Come on."

'Here' was an old-style house, a little battered, but standing strong. Through the open door, Zane could see the bottom of a staircase, an entryway, and about four guys, apparently arguing viciously over a toaster.

When Mystique's gaze fell upon that scene, she growled, "If you've broken another toaster-" Though her voice seemed to hit a higher octave on her last words, the nervous, vaguely toad-ish boy the others shoved forward surpassed her in a flurry of unintelligible excuses. Mystique cut him off, "Stop! Regardless of what damage you've done to my house, this time, you have a new housemate. This is Zane Darkwood, an empath. I expect to be able to return tomorrow and still have a house with five boys inside. Is that too difficult for you to understand?"

Heads shook 'no.'

At that, Mystique turned on her heal, re-entering the taxi and leaving. Zane just watched the others calmly, still silent. An awkward silence, at least for the original Brotherhood boys, stretched until Pietro snapped.

"You comin' in or what?"

"Sure. Where am I going? She never really said."

Pietro paused, "You followed Mystique without knowing where you're going?"

Unnoticed by the others, Todd snickered under his breath, "You're a poet, Pietro."

"Her name's Mystique? That's kind of weird." Zane shrugged carelessly, "Anyway, I'm not sure I had a choice, you know? Not every day a blue woman comes in with an aura like that-"

"Aura?" Lance looked at him strangely.

"Aura, yeh." A shrug. "Never really understood it 'til I found out I was a mutant. But, she just had an 'I dare you' kind of aura, and that's not a good thing. Anyway, this is bound to be interesting, at least. I've got nothing better to do."

Freddy stepped forward, "She mentioned that a room was clean enough for someone to clear out and live in. Come on."

Smiling cheerfully, Zane followed him inside, passing the other boys without a word.

Once the duo disappeared from sight, Pietro turned to Lance. "So, what now? Spy from Mystique? Enemy? Ally? What?"

Lance grunted. "No idea."


End file.
